


Meet the Parents

by BornOnAFridayIn91



Series: Kandomere X Reader [2]
Category: Bright (2017)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Podfic Welcome, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 21:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13533159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornOnAFridayIn91/pseuds/BornOnAFridayIn91
Summary: You and Kandomere meet each other's parents, with mixed results.





	Meet the Parents

Kandomere and I had been dating for a few months and things were getting serious. We were toying with the idea of moving in together. It felt like I was going to be with this guy for a long time. Both of our parents were needling us to meet our significant other. After putting it off, we both decided it was time.

He met my family first. There was a disparity between Kandomere’s background and mine. I came from a typical, working and middle-class family. We could go on nice vacations and have memorable Christmases and birthdays, but we had to work for those. In my teens, my parents even worked odd jobs; my mother would babysit or give lessons and my dad was the neighborhood handyman. My Kandomere’s family coasted on his grandfather’s wealth, well-paying careers and proper money management. They had simply had the money laying around to do what they wanted.

I wasn’t embarrassed for Kandomere, my snob of an elf boyfriend to meet my family. In fact, I was looking forward to it. I wanted to see him out of his element. I wanted to see his eyes wide with shock as my sister got grass stains on her jeans from playing football with our brother and that our food came from Walmart.

How do middle-class humans celebrate and get together? We cookout. It was the first cookout of the season and my dad was itching for a reason to get the grill going.

Kandomere and I pulled into the drive of my childhood home. Upon opening the door, we were greeted by my family’s young golden retriever named Blue. We adopted him as a puppy my senior year in high school.

“Hi, Blue!” I exclaimed happily as he jumped up on me. I scratched him behind his floppy ears and kissed his head. “I missed you so much!”

He didn’t even care that Kandomere was there. My dad makes comments that he would be worthless guard dog because he likes everyone he meets or simply doesn’t care that a stranger is in his domain.

“Oh my god, she’s really dating an elf.” My sister said in disbelief from the second story landing, looking down upon us in the entryway.

“That’s my sister, Haley,” I said to Kandomere. “This is Blue, obviously.” I had a ridiculous number of photos of the dog on my phone and probably spent a good fifteen minutes showing Kandomere at one point.

“Wait, aren’t you a little short for an elf? Aren’t elves, like, six-foot somethin’?” She asked as she jogged down the stairs.

I sighed, “Haley, get it out of your head that a man has to be at least six-foot-two for you to even look at him.”

“Hey, man,” My brother said, coming from the living room, “I’m Clint,” He said, yanking Kandomere’s hand for a shake.

“Do you really work for the FBI?” Clint asked.

“I do,” Kandomere confirmed, a little taken aback about how many people were talking to him and vying for his attention.

“Oh, sweet, dude! So, do you have a gun? How fast can you shoot it? My brother asked eagerly.  
“Do you want to find out?” Kandomere asked.

Clint laughed, then paused, then laughed nervously. He snapped his fingers, “I’ll have to keep my eye on you.”

“There’s my girl!” My Dad exclaimed, barreling in for a bear hug.

“Don’t squish her!” My mom teased, close behind him.

My parents squeezed me in a group hug.

When we pulled away, I introduced Kandomere. “Everyone, this is Kandomere. Kandomere, this is my mom Maggie and my dad Bobbie.”

“Hello,” Kandomere greeted, making eye contact with both of my parents.

“Hi!” Mom exclaimed, pulling Kandomere into a much gentler hug. He was a little surprised by the sudden affection.

“Nice to finally meet ya!” Dad said, “Hey, do you know how to make fajitas? Like, really, really, good fajitas?” Dad asked.

“Dad…” I groaned.

“What? I just really like fajitas! Your mother is Swedish and makes damn good meatballs! He’s Mexican, right? You’re Mexican?” Dad countered.

“I was born in LA; my paternal grandparents are from San Salvador. My mother’s side of the family is from Bucharest. So, I don’t know how good my fajitas would be…” Kandomere explained.

Despite the bit of racial profiling, the dinner went well. The conversation flowed nicely and Kandomere had more than enough to talk about with everyone. There were even a handful of hearty laughs.

We were sitting on the deck as the sun starts to fade with my siblings, my parents were in the kitchen cleaning up. Blue was on the lawn chewing on his toy and rolling in the grass.

“She snores, doesn’t she?” Haley asserted.

“And talks in her sleep,” Clint added.

“She once peed on a table at the mall when she was a toddler.”

“She tripped and fell into Garth Brooks last year.”

“She puked on the Ferris wheel once and it hit everyone below her.”

“Have you noticed the little point on her right ear? Maybe she’s part elf!”

“It’s a Darwin’s ear. Completely different.” I clarified. I still blushed at the stories my siblings told, but I expected it.

“I think it’s cute,” Kandomere replied with a small shrug, grinning at me.

With all the conversation, we didn’t notice Blue sneaking onto the deck and grabbing Haley’s sandal.

“Hey!” Haley explained as Blue tore down the steps to the yard.

We all jumped up and hurried after him. It took us at least ten minutes to finally grab the shoe from Blue after Clint cornered him.

Mom and Dad emerged from the house. Dad tossed the football to Kandomere. Kandomere, not expecting the toss, fumbled the ball at first but caught it.

“Get the elf!” Clint cried, pointing to Kandomere.

My dad, Haley, and Clint charged on him and he had a look similar look to a deer in headlights. They tackled him to the ground, only an arm and a leg visible from under my family.

The night ended with him covered in grass stains and with the wind knocked out of him.

“Take care of her,” My dad said, misty-eyed as we were about to leave.

Kandomere gave a small smile of pride, “I will.”

Clint drew a finger across his neck as Haley twirled a metal baseball bat on the wooden floor.

Kandomere nodded to them in understanding.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry for them. I swear, we are somewhat civilized.” I said, my face buried in my hands as we got into the car.

“Nothing to apologize for. I don’t want you to apologize for them.” Kandomere said, peeling one of my hands away from my face and kissing it. “I like them. They have personalities. My parents divorced when I was fourteen. It was a loveless marriage, merely one of convenience. My grandfather arranged it. My father died when I was eighteen. It’s nice to see everyone so lively and,” He paused searching for the word, “happy.”

I smiled, satisfied that one meeting had gone well.

I knew a little about Kandomere’s parents. His father, Angelo was a federal judge and his mother, Éabha was the headmistress of an elite, private finishing school for young elf girls. His paternal grandmother, Theodosia, was a doll maker, whose work was exquisite and sought after by collectors. I would later meet Theodosia who was still as spritely and sweet as ever. For one of our wedding gifts from her, she built and painted dolls of Kandomere and me in our wedding attire. She somehow made me elven while keeping me human. Kandomere was creeped out by it, but I thought it was endearing. We got along great and it’s not uncommon that I stop by her house to help her along. Though she has retired from professional doll making due to her weak and arthritic hands, she frequently restores the Barbie’s and other dolls for the children of her neighborhood for no or little payment from their families.

When we get together, Theodosia teaches me her craft, lamenting that she never had a daughter or granddaughter to pass it down to. In turn, I repair her jewelry and help her make new pieces. One of the few chores Kandomere will do without griping about it is pick up her groceries (via a personal shopper, of course) and cook for her when he visits.

Shortly after Kandomere met my parents, I met his mother. Éabha was a beautiful woman with sharp features. Austere and stern, she spent most of the night looking down upon me. Her eyes were the same shade of icy blue and had the same power to wring the truth from your throat as Kandomere’s. She was dressed in a black dress as though she was mourning the elven daughter-in-law she would never have. She spoke in a soft, quiet voice that made me fear the thought of her yelling.

“Hello,” I said to her, a little intimidated by her.

She said nothing, but gave a small nod, appraising me.

I heard the distinctive pattern and sound of paws on the marble floor. A tall, black dog slowly walked in to see who had arrived.

“This is Dumbledore,” Kandomere said, bending down to greet the dog. “He’ll be twelve next month.”

Dumbledore was an old English Wolfhound. He was slow and gentle in his movements and calm in personality.

“Like the Harry Potter character,” I smiled to Éabha. I was relieved to find some common ground with the woman. I loved the books and movies.

“No, it is an old English word for bumblebee.” Éabha corrected sternly.

I felt like I had just been reprimanded.

She led us into the dining room and we sipped wine before dinner was served.

“Kandomere, whatever happened to Evangeline? I rather liked her.” The smallest smile on her face.

Evangeline. Yep, that was definitely an elf name.

“The girl I dated in high school?” He swallowed his wine, “She slashed my tires when I broke up with her and told the entire school that I sold cocaine.”

“She wasn’t _that_ bad.” Éabha urged.

“Mother, last I checked she was on a 5150 for delusions in Sierra Vista,” Kandomere replied.

“Oh pish, tosh.” She said, with a dismissive wave of her manicured hand.

“She believes she is the long-lost daughter of Gianni Versace. Donatella was afraid for her life!”

“Well, you never know!” Éabha rebuffed.

“Versace was gay.”

Éabha shrugged and took a large swig of her wine. I just sat there and enjoyed the scene playing out in front of me.

Soon dinner was ready. It was some sort of veal dish with a minimal amount of unintelligible sides dotted around the plate artistically. Served by humans, they looked at me like I was an oddity.

“Please, tell me about yourself. Kandomere has told me next to nothing.” Éabha said, more to be polite than actual interest.

“Well, I was born in Ojai.” I explained, “My dad is a history teacher at our high school and my mom is a caseworker for the state. I have two siblings, I’m the oldest. My sister Haley is the youngest, a senior in high school and my brother Clint is a sophomore at Berkley. I went to Savannah College of Art and Design in Savannah, Georgia after high school where I studied jewelry design. Tuition was hefty, so I had a lot of odd jobs. I worked at Leopold’s my entire time there and I sold my jewelry on Etsy since I was eighteen. I worked at just about every place on River Street; the Shrimp Factory, One Eyed Lizzies…”

Éabha looked bored. “That must have been quite a challenge for you,” she said, not looking at me.

I giggled, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, I’m just now getting caught up on the sleep I missed.”

“Kandomere here went through quite a quite a rebellious phase when he was a teenager. Wouldn’t come out of his room, listened to god awful, angry music. I’m just now getting reacquainted with his left eye, it used to be covered completely by his hair.” She said as she eyed her son.

Kandomere coughed and choked on the food in his mouth, quickly excusing himself from the table.

“Do you have anything at all in common?” Éabha asked skeptically.

“Well, yeah,” I replied, thrown off by the question. “We like the same books and movies. We have similar values. We like to go for a nice run at the end of the day. I think our differences just make things more interesting.” I replied as Kandomere returned to the table.

Conversation lapsed into a tense pause with only the sound of silverware echoing through the spacious dining room.

 “Aren’t human descended from caveman and Neanderthals?” Éabha asked trying to get under my skin, swirling her red wine.

I was caught off guard and it took me a moment to formulate a response. “As far as I know, my ancestors lived in the more habitable regions of the Arctic Circle where they were reindeer herders. You would think that would be a vocation more suited to those of us with pointy ears.”

Kandomere hid a smirk from behind his wine glass.

“You smell like my son,” Éabha asked, seriously. “Strongly. Can I assume that this relationship has been consummated?”

Both Kandomere and I looked like we wanted to melt into our seats. All the places we’ve had sex flooded my mind; my bed, his bed, my car, his car, my shower, his shower, his office, the janitor’s closet in his office building, a few mindful gropes at concerts, plays, or out shopping…

One of our best dates replayed in my mind. We spent the weekend together in his apartment and never left. We turned our phones off and gave everyone strict orders not to bother us. We slept, ate, napped, and having amazing sex. Kandomere dozed off as we watched bad TV and I ended up painting his nails hot pink from a bottle of nail polish I had in my suitcase. It was just us enjoying each other.

“We have.” Kandomere answers, his voice strained. This was the last conversation he wanted to have with his mother.

“Well, there’s no going back now,” Éabha replies, disappointment dripping in her voice.

“Look, ma’am, I know I’m not what you want as a potential daughter-in-law, but let’s be real here. When we get down to it, the only real difference between all of us is pointy ears, sharper teeth and like, ten chromosomes or something. I’m a good person. I’m not going to steal of Kandomere’s money and drop his dead body in the tar pits.”

“But you are not an elf,” Éabha replied simply as though I were an idiot.

She looked towards Kandomere as though he would confirm her beliefs. The tips of his ears were turning red and he was moments away from snapping the stem of his glass, his grip was so tight with contained anger.

“You’re being unreasonable,” Kandomere said to Éabha.  
“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Éabha said, politely dabbing her mouth with her cloth napkin, standing and striding off.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to piss her off.” I was mortified. I could feel my face turning red.

“You apologize for things that are not your fault. That’s just how she is. Try living with her. Why do think I went as far as Columbia for college?” He asked, a small grin on his face.

Kandomere stood up, “Come on, let’s get you a burger.”

I smiled as I stood up and he wrapped his arm around my waist.

As we walked out, Kandomere sneakily took Dumbledore’s leash off the hook in the hall and attached it to the dog’s collar. “We’re taking him.” He said quietly.

“But what about your mom?”

“He doesn’t deserve to be here, cooped up with that old crone. She has him wearing sweaters and coats. It’s LA for god sake. People can barely stand wearing such clothing without succumbing to heat stroke, let alone a dog covered in fur. Besides, she’s still mad that I didn’t go to either of my proms. What more can she be mad about?”

In later years, I learned to accept that Éabha doesn’t and probably would never like me. She doesn’t hate me, she just doesn’t like me and I can never change that. I am simply not an elf. Kandomere and my family developed a happy friendship and Dumbledore seemed to enjoy living with us much more than Éabha.

 


End file.
